No More Secrets
by theravenclawquill
Summary: After being dumped by Dan, Serena turns to the one person she could always count on - to never judge her and always do anything to ease her pain. Serena/Chuck


**(A/N)** Hi!! I haven't written anything in so long, and I'm forgetting how this whole process goes, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes! Well, it's great to be back... I hadn't posted a story in so long, and I'm home from college for winter break, so I thought I'd write again. Unfortunately, before I could write something, I found this old, old story I had started in my documents! I wrote it way back a couple of seasons ago, which explains the setting. So apologies for the throwback (: but hope you enjoy it anyway!!

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_Emo is the new black. Or, rather – I guess it always has been_. – Gossip Girl

xoxo

That night, Serena van der Woodsen saw things in a dimmer light.

The door she pushed open with her black fingerless gloves, the hem of her Pucci yellow halter dress billowing against her Chanel gladiator heels, even the still-damp grass outside – everything seemed to be bathed in a cloud of blurry, dismal gloom.

Granted, it could've been due to (as Serena later realized) mascara running down her tear-stained cheeks and clumping near her eye ducts, but the gloom was more dramatic if taken in the metaphorical sense.

Serena sighed, wisps of blond hair falling messily from her Grecian updo. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting alone in the dark. How long it had been since her mother's wedding had been over. How long it had been since Dan had broken up with her.

She winced, her perfect nose contorting into a furrow for a split second. Even though she hadn't said it out loud, the heavy words still choked her up. Dan had broken up with her. Dumped her, even. Her! Serena van der Woodsen. Serena hadn't been dumped since she was eleven and had mistakenly Frenched her second cousin the first time she tried alcohol. And even _he_ had some trouble pushing the goddess-like tween off of him.

So the whole Dan situation was baffling, to say the least. An objective bystander would find it absolutely ludicrous that an unknown shrimpy, suffering writer with a penchant for Chinese takeout would willingly break up with a bordering-on-perfect, filthy rich, young, blond socialite with a kind heart. For hundreds of guys in New York, Serena van der Woodsen was the ultimate wet dream. And Dan, who was lucky just to get a few words with her in the first place, just let her slip through his stubby, graphite-stained fingers.

In sad disbelief, Serena snapped open her Prada satin clutch and fumbled for her cell phone. With numb fingers, she scrolled down her list of contacts, desperate for someone – anyone – to talk to. She quickly ruled out Blair, in fear that her calculating bestie would inflict massive pain on Dan (who, though crazy, did not deserve to incur the unspeakable wrath of Waldorf); Nate, who had enough of his own troubles; and Vanessa, who was a sweet girl but probably too close to Dan to be sympathetic to Serena.

The neon bar of light landed on _Chuck Bass_. Or more specifically, it landed on _Chuck Almighty_– what he had customized his contact information to say the day that he had stolen Serena's Envy phone. Serena smiled slightly, in spite of herself. Chuck had been more than helpful these past few weeks – what with offering her a place to stay whenever she was distraught, helping her ruin Georgina, and, most recently, covering her at her missed SAT's and lying to Dan.

_Lying to Dan. _Serena grimaced in guilt and quickly pushed the glowing green button. The person on the other line picked up within the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Chuck?" Serena's wobbly voice broke with unshed tears. "It's me. I need you."

---

_Learning to love your sibling is messy and awkward, like watching a Jersey girl sport a faux-Tropez tan after Labor Day._ – Gossip Girl

xoxo

Chuck's Palace suite was the epitome of bachelordom. He left the sheets in a tangled mess on the king-size bed, cups half-filled with alcoholic kamikaze drinks on each table, and the drawers pulled out at random. Still, Serena always felt oddly at home each time she visited room 1812 – which was starting to be quite often.

At present, Serena was at her usual spot at the open bar, taking off her heels and swinging them onto the granite tabletop. Chuck was behind the bar, pulling out an unopened Prosecco and two champagne flutes from the cherry cupboards.

"The usual?"

Serena nodded gratefully and began untying the knot on her bridesmaid dress, which was itchy from all the chiffon and beginning to restrict her breathing at the belted waist. She was comfortable enough around Chuck – who, although sleazy, was like a brother (now both literally and figuratively) – to go sans clothing. The uncomfortable dress dropped formlessly to the floor and Serena happily leapt out of it. She hated dressing up. If it were up to her, she'd walk around in Seven cutoffs and a Yale sweatshirt all day.

Sighing, Serena jumped back onto the plush bar stool, smiling at the peach Bellini Chuck had just finished mixing for her. "Thank you, Chuck," she said, sipping the childishly bendy straw. "I feel ten times better already."

Chuck wiped his hands on the bartender towel and eyed his stepsister's ridiculously toned body, which, at present, was clothed only in a lacy black La Perla bra set. His swift eyes traced the edges of her collarbone, the smoothness of her sternum that dipped into the imagination, her slender arms and her endless, tan calves. With reluctance, he replied, "Want a sweater?"

"Please."

"Okay, so tell me, sis," he drawled, grabbing an oversized Yankees sweatshirt out of his large closet and tossing it at Serena's half-naked frame. "How has the cruel world wronged you today?"

Serena yanked the sweater on and sighed heavily, blowing up several wispy bangs. "Well…" She grimaced, faltering for a second before deciding to slowly let the news out.

"…Dan broke up with me."

The five short words seemed to weigh her down. She squeezed her eyes shut, tossed back some more Bellini, shot-style, and set the glass firmly down with an angry bang.

"So? Dan Humphrey is an idiot," Chuck said simply, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "Always has been, always will be. I don't know why you care what he thinks."

Serena made a soft scoff of absentminded dissent, twirling the straw so that the ice cubes pinged against the glass. "Well. He _was _my boyfriend, after all."

Chuck regarded her with a disparaging eye and tsked, shaking his head. He patted the spot on the bed next to where he was presently sitting, signaling her to have a seat. "Come here, let me tell you something."

With childlike obedience, Serena slid off of the tall bar stool and walked lazily (and perhaps a bit tipsily) to the bed. Chuck watched, an appreciative smirk forming on his face; he'd always said that Serena walked like poetry in motion. She crawled next to him and piteously laid her head on his shoulder, murmuring comfortably as her head fit perfectly into the contours of Chuck's neck.

Almost instinctively, Chuck brought a hand to Serena's head and ran his fingers comfortingly through her long, silky strands of blond hair. "Humphrey Dumpty," he murmured quietly, "doesn't deserve to be called your boyfriend." At this, Serena frowned and shifted off of Chuck's shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words – angry or otherwise – came out.

Chuck ignored her silent glares of protest and went on, "Look, you've called me three times over the past weeks to help you lie to him, cover for you when he asked for you, and give you a place to stay to hide from him. You don't do that to boyfriends. If, deep down, you really loved him, you wouldn't have treated him like that so easily. Without even a second thought. _He_ would be the one you called for comfort, not me. _His_ number would be the one you dialed all those times, not mine."

Serena, navy eyes blazing, whispered furiously, "Don't say that."

"Serena." Chuck knew he was pushing the limits of Serena's emotional control, but he pushed on, never breaking eye contact. He had to let her know. "I've been more of a boyfriend to you than Humphrey has these past weeks. And you know it."

Something in Serena's face collapsed, palpable for only the smallest fraction of a second. But Chuck caught the subtle twitch of her left eye, the perfection in her arched eyebrow momentarily betrayed by the interruption of the hurt (or was it surprised?) furrow. The expression in her face was perplexing. She was as beautiful as ever, true, but there was something just a bit disturbed in her otherwise perfect countenance as she muttered with conviction, "No. I don't know that."

"Oh come on, Serena!" Chuck burst out angrily, swinging his leg onto the bed and shaking the forlorn blond girl by her shoulders. "Why don't you just admit it? You don't love Dan anymore. You deserve someone better."

"No…" She slid farther on the bed, away from Chuck and his blasphemous words.

"Admit it. You don't love him anymore." He grabbed her hands, but she yanked them away roughly. Angry tears shone in the corners of her eyes.

"Don't say it, Chuck."

"You deserve someone who always has your back. Who cares enough about you to bail you out of trouble, fend off phone calls and dedicate hours researching and trying to destroy the girl causing you pain… Every think about why I went through so much trouble to help make you happy? Who else would I do that for?"

"Please don't, please stop, we can't..." Serena put her face in her hands.

Chuck inched towards her, placing a mollifying hand on Serena's bare thigh. He was so close now that he could've traced her collarbones with his free hand. He leaned in, his lips grazing her neck.

"Stop it, Chuck; our parents -"

"We're -"

"And Blair–"

"We're alone now."

"Our parents…and Blair! How can we do –"

"Just stop it, Serena! Look at me."

Something in Chuck's stern whisper made Serena stop her protesting and fall limp, as if all the energy was drained from her. "We're alone," she nodded tonelessly. She raised her eyes to meet Chuck's dark, mysterious ones.

And she gave in.

For the first time in her life, Serena agreed with Chuck Bass.

---

_The morning-after effect is an annoying but sadly inevitable fact of life. Like ugly people. _– Gossip Girl

xoxo

For Serena van der Woodsen, morning arrived in the form of a series of angry knocks.

Her eyes immediately snapped open. _Where am I?_

She sat up abruptly in the red down covers she seemed to be entrenched in. That proved to be a bad decision; her sudden movement caused the blood to rush too quickly to her head and white splotches to erupt in front of her eyes. "Ugh," she croaked quietly, rubbing her throbbing temples and eyeballs. After a series of furious blinks to clear her vision, Serena held her head and surveyed her surroundings. _Oh yeah, Chuck's room… why exactly did I come, again? _

The deafening knocks continued, with increasing fervency. Serena's sensitive head throbbed with each pound.

"Chuck," she croaked, looking around for her stepbrother. "Can you get the door?"

There was no response. _Where is he? _she thought, annoyed. _Fixing himself a morning mojito, no doubt. _She gave the bar a cursory scan, but it was unoccupied. About a dozen empty glass flutes were scattered haphazardly across the tabletop, remnants of the two teens' peach Bellini frenzy the previous night.

_Pound, pound, pound! _The knocking seemed to grow louder. A voice, muted through the thick cherry oak door, called out unintelligibly.

"Chuck!" Serena, whose hangover was getting steadily worse by the second, pinched the bridge of her nose and grimaced. "Could you _please_ hurry and get the damn door?"

Suddenly, to her shock, the bundle of blankets next to her shifted, and a rumpled and irritated Chuck Bass emerged. "I'm right here, van der Woodsen." His voice was still groggy as he sat up. "What in the world are you complaining about now?"

Serena, however, had gone ashen (and apparently mute) at the realization of the situation. Seemingly all at once, memories of the previous night flooded back into her mind – the breakup, the Bellinis, the argument… then the kissing, the hands, the -

"Wha– did we – I mean –" she stammered, breath catching after each attempt at a word.

In one easy motion, Chuck threw back the heavy sheets and smirked one-sidedly. "Oh yeah, you were great. Best I ever had." He walked heavily to the door and yelled to the relentless visitor, "Just one fucking second, okay?" The knocks ceased, but an audible grumbling persisted. Chuck threw open his closet and yanked out a Hermes dress shirt – something, in Bass standards, casual.

At Serena's evident disturbed silence and slack jaw, Chuck squinted at her. "Wow, I was being sarcastic, dear sister. You're lucky you have your looks."

"Ohhh." Serena collapsed backwards onto the plush bed in relief. "Thank goodness."

Chuck buttoned his shirt, chuckling. "Yeah. Plus, that would be illegal in like 45 states."

"It's not like some of your other pastimes aren't illegal in 50."

"Touché." Sighing, he turned to grip the doorknob. "And, uh, to whom do I owe this far from pleasant visit?" he called cynically through the door.

"Dan. Dan Humphrey."

""Shit."" Both Chuck and Serena cursed simultaneously, the latter scrambling frantically out of bed, long legs tangling in the sheets. She ran a hand through her long strands of knotted blond hair and darted to the room's closet. After a split second's hesitation, she threw open the bi-fold doors and leapt in. On the plus side, the closet was so roomy that Serena could probably walk the length with her elbows out; on the negative, it also reeked of heavy Chuck-scented cologne. She gagged a little and flattened herself to peer through the door's slats.

Chuck was fixing a complacent smirk on his face before opening the door to an extremely annoyed-looking Dan Humphrey.

"What do you want, Humphrey Dumpty? I'm certain I don't have any Kafka books, graphing calculators, or anything of interest to your boring self."

Dan ignored the jabs, griped, "Decency says you should really get the door for someone before he turns 40 outside your room, Bass." He regarded Chuck's disheveled appearance. "What, d'you have a girl over or something?"

Chuck's lips curled, amusedly. "If you must know, yes."

"Ah." Dan strained his neck into the room and, finding it empty, raised a finger in mock realization. "Can't come out into the sunlight, can she? Would she burn to a crisp?"

"Only from her own hotness," Chuck replied silkily, without missing a beat. Inside the pungent closet, Serena felt herself blush.

In silent defeat, Dan sighed exasperatedly and shook his head. "Whatever, Chuck, look – I'm not here to argue with you. I was just looking for Serena. Is she here?"

"Obviously not." Chuck's head turned the slightest of millimeters toward the very closet in which Serena was obviously not hiding. From between the slats, Serena caught Chuck's subtle expression. The knowing yet also slightly (was she imagining it?) disappointed expression that he threw her spoke volumes. Serena's breath caught in her throat and her face immediately flushed.

_Chuck was right_, Serena thought, feeling like a fool. _Look at me! Hiding from my own ex-boyfriend in a closet! I'm pathetic. You don't treat someone you love like this. If I truly loved Dan, I wouldn't have to hide all the time. A healthy relationship thrives on trust. If I have but one secret to keep from Dan, we obviously have problems. And I sure kept _a lot_ of secrets from him…_ Serena's fingers tightened in a sudden, panicked realization. _But I've kept secrets from everyone! Even Blair! Have I even had a perfectly honest relationship in my life before? _Her fingers loosened slightly as she searched the depths of her mind and realized that there was just one.

She fixed her focus through the tiny slats again.

_I've never kept any secrets from Chuck. _

---

The closet door opened with a creak, conspicuously loud in the momentary silence. A tan slender leg eased out, followed by a lithe body in a Yankees sweatshirt that fell to her thighs.

"Serena?!" Chuck called in mock shock, narrowing his eyes at her and cocking his head slightly in confusion. "What are you doing here? How long have you been hiding in my closet?"

Serena held up one hand to stop him, the other cradling the elbow. "It's okay, Chuck," she said softly, eyes fixed on Dan. "I'm ready to tell the truth now." She swallowed. "No more secrets."

As she stepped cautiously toward Dan, he held up both hands and stepped away from her. "Whoa," he stammered. "What is this? Why…why –"

"I can explain." Her voice aimed to soothe. "I -"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on." Dan, tortured in silent confusion, continued to wave his hands to signal Serena to stop speaking. He made a face. "Are you and Chuck – is there something going on here – between -"

"No." "Yes."

The two answers came out simultaneously, the former from Chuck (surprisingly) and the latter from Serena. They both whirled around to glare angrily at the other.

"What are you saying, S?" Chuck hissed, squinting at her.

But the girl was undeterred, her beautiful face set in determination. "No more secrets," she repeated adamantly. She then turned to Dan. "Look, Dan," she started, with a decisiveness rarely seen in her usually wavering manner. "You came here looking for me, so I suspect you have something you want to tell me. I have some things I want to tell you, too. Everything. I'm going to tell you everything and leave nothing out. I'll hear you out if you hear me out. Agreed?"

There was silence as Dan mulled his response. He regarded Serena's earnest expression and Chuck in the background, rolling his eyes.

"Okay. Let's just… go outside. Somewhere."

---

**(A/N) **How was it? I hope you liked it! I think I will leave this a oneshot. I don't think I'm going to update this, seeing how the plotline has already expired by now. So you can use your imaginations to end the story however you like! (: Please feel free to leave a comment/advice/anything! I'd love to hear from you guys again after my leave of absence. Hope to write more soon!


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